


harmony of thought

by annejumps



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Age Difference, F/M, M/M, Multi, Post-Canon, Telepathic Bond, Telepathic Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9826421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: They hadn’t stopped just because Jean could sense them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pearl_o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [pearl_o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o) in the [xmenrarepairs17](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmenrarepairs17) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Jean and Charles's mental connection means she can hear/sense/feel when Charles and Erik are having sex.

Jean is completely absorbed in a book one evening, stretched out on her bed with her shields firmly in place, when she realizes she feels hot all over, that her pulse is racing. For a moment, she thinks she’s coming down with something. 

But no—it’s happening again. 

And just like that it’s impossible to ignore or block out, no matter how strong her shields. She puts her book down, and sighs.

 _I’m sorry_ , comes the Professor’s strained, breathless mental voice. _I can’t stop it, I’ve tried. As you know_.

 _I know_ , Jean replies, a little tightly. 

The last time this happened—the first time—she’d lain in bed and tried to ignore the fact that she could feel everything the Professor felt—and what Mr. Lehnsherr felt—while he and Mr. Lehnsherr had sex. He’d reached out suddenly, searchingly, surprised to feel her mind but helpless to stop anything that was happening, muttering something about how fighting Apocalypse had no doubt left a permanent connection. She’d been trying in vain to shut it down, and was dismayed to find that neither of them could do it. If neither of them could manage it, well, it had to be impossible. 

And the Professor and Mr. Lehnsherr had kept at it because, well.

She hadn’t slept a wink that night, torn between erasing her memories and poring over them again and again: Mr. Lehnsherr kissing the Professor like he was starving for him, deeply, then down his neck, over his chest, his nipples. The Professor turning Mr. Lehnsherr onto his back, moving down the bed to take his cock in his mouth. 

They hadn’t stopped just because Jean could sense them. 

And really, she couldn’t blame them, not when what they had between them was like that. That was what she concluded as their orgasms washed over her, followed by the Professor’s flustered apologies to her. 

_It’s okay_ , she’d said, and with his orgasm fading the connection dropped and she was left alone with her own shielded thoughts.

This really should feel like a gross violation, she’d thought at the time. But it hadn’t. Neither of them could help it, after all.

Now, she closes her eyes. 

The Professor likes to take his time, possibly because he and Mr. Lehnsherr hadn’t been and aren’t able to spend much time together, so he makes the most of it when he can. Even after all Mr. Lehnsherr has done, the Professor touches him with so much care, like he’s unutterably precious. His kisses are gentle, but there’s nothing hesitant or tentative about them: he’s thorough, and Mr. Lehnsherr seems to melt under them (well, as much as a man like him can melt).

When the Professor wraps his hand around Mr. Lehnsherr’s cock with an assured grip, she feels his reaction though the Professor’s mind, and gasps. A ripple spreads from her mind to the Professor’s, and he notices her again. Mortified, she goes still, but after a pause, he sends a thought to her, wry but with a darkness underlying it, a sensuality she can’t recall getting from him before.

 _If we’re going to keep you awake all night, darling, you might as well enjoy it. Don’t you think?_

There’s a gentle caress to her mind then, right over her pleasure center, and she can’t help another gasp. There’s been a low-level throbbing and wetness between her legs that she hasn’t actively encouraged ever since she realized what was happening, and now she can no longer ignore it. She arches to unbutton her jeans, fingers fumbling, and unzips them to get a hand inside her underwear.

As she rubs herself, she can’t help a stray thought that asks her to consider what it would be like if the Professor were touching her like this, like Mr. Lehnsherr, if she were in his bed. She knows it’s her own thought, not something planted there by the Professor. She’ll admit to herself that yes, she’s always thought of the Professor as attractive (although it doesn’t quite compare to her childhood crush on Magneto—er, Mr. Lehnsherr) and while part of that is due to his charm and charisma, part of it is because he really is a good-looking man. Even bald.

 _Thank you_ , he interjects, dry but amused, and she’s distracted by her embarrassment by another stroke of his mental forefinger right over her pleasure center. She whimpers before she can stop herself, rubbing herself harder. She wants so badly to come, but something about the fact that the Professor will know, will witness it, makes her balk, even as the pulsing need becomes more insistent.

 _Nonsense_ , he tells her. _As I said, I want you to enjoy yourself_. 

She’s not sure if it’s his projection or hers or both of theirs, but then it’s as if it’s his hand in her underwear now, even as across the mansion he’s actually stroking Erik; his fingers are thicker than hers, stronger and not at all hesitant. She certainly can’t stop herself from coming now.

Mr. Lehnsherr comes when she does, a wave of pleasure washing over all three of them. To her stunned surprise, this trips off a reaction in her mind, not unlike a match tossed onto a gasoline-soaked floor. 

It’s that feeling again—that sense that a vast entity is channeling her, magnifying her rapacious need. It takes her over with terrifying speed, and her eyes fly open in alarm lest she find her bedroom is in flames around her. No. Instead, she just keeps coming and coming, until she can’t anymore. 

She doesn’t, however, lie awake all night. It’s actually very easy to sleep after that.

In the morning, though, she starts thinking about how she should act around the Professor and Mr. Lehnsherr now, and what it’ll be like next time this happens. 

Because, thankfully, it will.


End file.
